Filthy

Like any good trout bum worth their salt I’ve found myself glued to weather reports, river gauges and other meteorological what not lately. The roller coaster of fluctuating water levels has been impressive this summer. Without strict adherence to the information provided, one could certainly find themselves up shit creek. Significant rain events seem to have a strange way of both repelling and attracting people at the same time. Wiser people than myself tend to steer clear of high water. I’ve got a nasty little habit of probing the dirtiest depths of muddy water in search of angling nirvana. To go, or not to go, that is the question.

Fishing in the mud can be an exercise in futility. It’s a low percentage game for sure, but it’s like swinging for the fences. If the stars are aligned you’ll find the apex trout in the system vulnerable to your offerings. They abandon the comfort of the usual hidey hole and move into shallows where you’d never even bother to cast under normal conditions. There’s nothing like a muddy veil to reassure even the most fickle trout that he’s safe from predation. It’s a reliable pattern on creeks far and wide. Most of the time I find myself a day late and a dollar short (or overly anxious by jumping the gun). But when you time it just right it can be good. I like to throw something big and gaudy or try to match the hatch by representing something washing into the creek. Given the amount of precipitation we’ve had this year, it’s been a bumper crop of quality brooks and browns on unfamiliar turf. The endorphins flow like Donald Trump’s comb over following a stout round. With that being said, the stupid expression on my face is enough to avoid the self absorbed grip-n-grin selfie for the foreseeable future.

The dog days are ahead dead to rights. But that’s just code for peak terrestrial season in my book (or tricos if that’s your drink of choice). Phrases like “back to school, NFL training camp and the great Minnesota get together” have entered the lexicon. Which on some level signals the beginning of the end. But let there be no shame in your game. Like the bottom falling out of a nasty slider, sometimes you have to give them a healthy dose of the filthy stuff.